


Everything I Didn't Say

by momentsintimex



Series: In The Shadows [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, I'll tag as I go, Implied Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, References to Depression, Sibling Relationship, Therapy, healing siblings, mending relationships all over the place, mentioned relationships, zoe writes a journal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentsintimex/pseuds/momentsintimex
Summary: The whole idea of going to therapy seemed ridiculous to Zoe. It wasn’t her that narrowly survived a suicide attempt. It wasn’t her that needed it. It was Connor.And then she’s told that keeping a journal using the prompts that Dr. Taylor gives her, and she wonders what the point of all of this is. She hardly thought this would help her forgive Connor, and the thought of going through this for no reason was enough to make her head spin.Zoe immediately begins looking through the prompts. A journal to Connor, the brother who was getting better, but had left her with a million questions, not enough answers, and a broken relationship that she wasn’t always sure could be fixed.She didn’t think this would go well.





	1. And I'm trying to find my peace of mind

**Author's Note:**

> as with many DEH fics, this fic will deal with mentions of suicide attempts, self harm, etc. i will tag each chapter with specific warnings as we go, but if there's anything you want to know before reading, you can ask me on tumblr [here!](https://for-f0rever.tumblr.com/)
> 
> you don't need to read In The Shadows to completely understand all of this, but! it's set in the same universe so it may help clear things up :)
> 
> updates will most likely be every Sunday :)
> 
> title of fic - Everything I Didn't Say - 5 Seconds of Summer
> 
> title of chapter - Jet Pack Blues - Fall Out Boy

Zoe Murphy walks along the sidewalk leading to Dr. Taylor’s office, her phone grasped firmly in her hand while her Converse scuff against the concrete.

This whole excursion was sort of out of spite. It’s not that Zoe thought that therapy was dumb or ridiculous — far from it, actually. It was more that she didn’t think she _needed_ it, at least not in the way that Connor clearly did.

It had been three weeks since Connor tried to kill himself. Which meant it had been three weeks since Zoe discovered her brother lifeless in the park, choking on his own vomit after taking a bunch of pills. That fact alone warrants worry from both of her parents, and without even consulting Zoe, Cynthia had booked her an appointment in with Dr. Taylor, Connor’s new therapist.

There’s this sort of uneasiness about the whole thing in the pit of Zoe’s stomach. Because, well, okay, most people would jump at the chance to talk to a professional if they had found a stranger overdosing in the park, let alone their older brother. But Zoe just thought that maybe not drawing attention to it would eventually force it out of her mind.

As if every waking moment at home wasn’t a stark reminder of how close they came to losing Connor. As if looking at his face didn’t flood back a million memories of holding him in her arms while she tried to wake him up, to try to stop him from choking on his own vomit.

She’s spent a better part of the last 48 hours thinking about what Connor would do if he found out she was seeing his therapist. It felt like some sort of betrayal to her, some sort of sibling pact that she definitely shouldn’t be breaking. Connor had needed help for years, gotten it briefly, and then had been pulled out. And if he knew that she was seeing his therapist weeks after he had finally gotten back into therapy?

She’s pretty sure he’d kill her.

So she plans to keep it a secret, just like she had kept the fact that she found him that night a secret as well. It just — it wasn’t important, at least in her mind. What _was_ important was that Connor was alive and he was in therapy, which is what he’s needed for years.

Dr. Taylor shares his office with a few other therapists, the waiting room mundane and out of date just like most doctors offices Zoe’s been to. There’s a few people waiting, and so Zoe checks herself in and drags her feet to the corner chair where she’s out of the way, shoving her nose into her phone to stop herself from overthinking all of this.

It’s not like she plans to make this a habit. This is just to make her mom stop worrying, and then when she sees she’s fine Zoe can just abandon this whole thing. Forget that she was even talking to anyone about how screwed up things have been the last few years.

Whatever picture Zoe had for Dr. Taylor in her mind seems to be completely wrong when he opens the door, smiling as he ushers her back. He has greying hair, seems to be middle-aged, and the exact opposite of a person Zoe would ever think Connor would want to spill his feelings to. Granted, she can’t exactly think of _anyone_ Connor would talk things through with, but Dr. Taylor just seemed so… different that Zoe didn’t think Connor would open up to him the way he evidently had been.

Then again, she figures there’s a lot she probably doesn’t know about Connor.

“I can tell that you and Connor are related,” He says when he sits down across from her, “You two have the same mannerisms.”

And, okay. It’s not the first time Zoe has heard that. But she’s not expecting it to be the first thing he says to her, and so she stares at him dumbly. “I — people used to think we were twins,” She shrugs, but it feels so foreign and not at all like something that she would normally say, she almost wants to walk out and just try this whole therapy thing again another day where she doesn’t make an idiot of herself right off the bat.

“Your mom thought it would be good if you had someone to talk to. I know Connor has been going through a lot, but from what I’ve heard it seems like you were caught in the middle of a lot of it,” He begins, flipping through his notebook to what Zoe presumes is an empty page.

She sighs, chewing on the inside of her lip. “I don’t think I need the therapy that bad, though. I — he needs it more than me.”

“Don’t you think you both deserve someone to talk to?” Dr. Taylor counters. Zoe resists the urge to roll her eyes. Obviously he’s going to think she should talk to him, he’s getting paid to have her sit here and spill every thought in her mind.

“I mean, sure, I guess. But if he knew that I was seeing you, too… he’d be so pissed off. He’s waited years for help, and I just get it now by default because suddenly my dad realizes this was really bad. Everything was really bad.”

“So Connor doesn’t know that you’re here talking with me too?” He asks. Zoe notices the disbelief in his voice, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. She thinks about being smart about all of this, but she realizes that he’s only seeing one side of Connor, a side that is medicated and probably way more honest than he had ever been with her the last few years.

“No, he doesn’t. And I don’t want him to know. I just… he deserves this therapy and I really need for him to get better, and that’s not going to happen if he knows that his little sister once again comes in and takes something from him that he needed more,” She says, sinking back into the chair. “It’d just be another thing for him to add to the list of why he resents me.”

“Everything you say in here is confidential,” Dr. Taylor promises, writing a few things down in his notebook. “Now, I’ve heard a little bit about your relationship from Connor, but do you mind telling me a little bit about the two of you in your own words? Why do you think he resents you so much?”

Zoe laughs at that, shaking her head. “Because the last few years I’ve ruined his life?” She says, but it sounds wrong and she isn’t even sure she believes it herself.

She glances at the clock. 30 more minutes. “We were inseparable when we were little. He’s only a year older than me, so I used to tag along with him when he would hang out with his friends. We made up games in the backyard or had races on our bikes and things. I was kind of like his shadow. Anything he was doing I wanted to do.”

She stops herself, fiddling with the hair tie on her wrist out of sheer nervousness. “I guess it all sort of changed when he was like 12 or 13. He started going downhill, freaking out more, having more like… depressive episodes? And he didn’t want to hang out with me anymore or spend time with me. We started fighting a lot, and then he started getting really bad and threatening to kill me just because I would say something that he disagreed with. He started calling me a bitch, that I was ruining his life and I was the golden child. I had to start avoiding him, stop bringing friends over in case he freaked out. He terrified me for a while. He still kind of does.”

“When he would threaten to kill you, did you worry that he would really go through with it?”

Zoe shrugs. So much for just coasting through this therapy session. “Sometimes yes and sometimes no. Sometimes he’d threaten to knock down my door and kill me, other times he would just say it and there was this look behind his eyes. I usually believed that he would really kill me on the days where he would pound on my door. I don’t know that he would’ve meant to, but he just… he got so _angry_ and I really wasn’t sure that there was anything that would stop him, because I’m pretty sure his rational thinking was just gone when he was this mad.”

Dr. Taylor nods, writing a few things down. “I know it’s only been a few weeks since he’s been out of the hospital and medicated, but how do you think things are now? Do they feel about the same since before his attempt?”

Zoe figures it’s probably a bad sign if she just straight up admits she’s been avoiding being alone with Connor, let alone having any meaningful conversation. Like in the grand scheme of things, saying that she’s been avoiding him is probably grounds for Dr. Taylor to keep this session going for a while. “He seems pretty zoned out,” She finally concludes, which isn’t exactly a lie. He _has_ been pretty quiet. “I mean, when he got home from the hospital he was pretty sick from the withdrawal still, but since then he’s kind of quiet and doesn’t say much. Which is a much better version of Connor than the one who threatened to kill me. But it’s — this still isn’t the Connor I grew up with.”

“Medications have an adjustment period. The Connor that’s zoned out right now won’t be around forever,” Dr. Taylor says, which. Somehow comforts Zoe a little more than she though it would. “When you think about Connor and you as siblings, if people were to ask you about a memory with him, what would be the first thing you’d think of?”

Zoe wishes she could say something fun from when they were little. Like how they used to have picnics at the orchard with their parents, or how they’d stay out until the sun set just over the horizon jumping on the trampoline, falling and trying to count all the stars.

“The only things I think about are bad memories,” She finally confesses. Because when he had asked her, the only thing that came to her mind were the times where Connor had said he was going to kill her, or he called her a bitch just because she said something about him that he didn’t believe was true. “I want to remember all the good ones, but the bad ones happened so recently and so often that I can’t think of a single good memory. Which is bad, right?”

Dr. Taylor smiles, setting his pen down on his notebook. Zoe can’t decide if that’s better or worse now that he’s staring at her. “It’s not necessarily bad, Zoe. It’s your reality. Sometimes there’s things that happen in people’s lives and they can’t see past all the bad things back to the good things. It sounds like that’s what is happening to you,” He pauses, standing up from his chair and walking back to a shelf to grab something. Zoe bounces her leg idly, checking the clock again.

15 minutes left.

“Have you ever thought about keeping a journal about how you feel? Sort of like a way to sort out your feelings about Connor and your relationship?” He asks, but apparently Zoe is looking at him like he spontaneously grew another head because he laughs when he sits back down.

“This is a list of journal prompts that may help you sort out some memories of Connor. Bring back some good memories, work through the tough times. You don’t have to use them, but sometimes it helps people to have a little guidance. Obviously Connor doesn’t have to know about this journal, he doesn’t need to see it or hear about it, but I really think it could help. We can discuss them if you come back to see me. Would you be willing to try that?” He asks, handing her a notebook and a list of prompts that from one glance Zoe thinks are going to be impossible.

“I mean, I could give it a shot,” She decides, because this guy probably hears from a million different people who hate doing anything he tells them to do or are at least reluctant to try it, and so the least she thinks she can do is give it a shot. It’s not like she’s even sure she’d be back to talk to him again, not that this was as awful as she thought it was going to be.

“Try to stay unfiltered in it. Don’t let yourself edit it. Just look at the prompts, think of something to do with your brother, and write until you can’t write anymore. You can address the letters to him or not, it doesn’t matter,” He explains, Zoe nodding as she goes to grab her things.

“A lot of the recovery of yours and Connor’s relationship will have to come from you. Connor isn’t in the right frame of mind to mend all these relationships at once right now, and so any support he can get from you and your family is going to help him get better. Try putting in a little effort. Ask him to hang out, talk to him when he seems low. Don’t let him isolate himself. It seems silly, but it could go a long way,” Dr. Taylor says, Zoe nodding.

“I know I need to put in more effort. Obviously this wasn’t all his fault. I’ll try to work on all of that. Thanks,” She says, slinging her bag over her shoulder in an effort to leave as quickly as possible.

“I hope to speak with you again soon, Zoe. I feel like you have a lot of things you need to talk through, and it might help to keep coming back,” He says when she stands up, and that’s when Zoe knows Cynthia told him how reluctant Zoe was to do this.

“Yeah, I’ll schedule something soon,” She says, but it’s really half-assed and even Dr. Taylor can tell as he smiles and shakes her hand, letting her walk back to the waiting room with the journal and prompts firmly secured in her hand.

Not that she would admit it to anyone, but when she stops by the front desk to make another appointment for in a few weeks time, she feels oddly okay about going back again.

Just as long as Connor doesn’t find out.

—

Cynthia Murphy is nothing if not an optimist.

In the weeks following Connor’s suicide attempt, she had been masking her worry and anxiety by being so optimistic that it was enough to make a sane person feel sick.

She’s fully aware that Connor had survived by the slimmest of margins. It had been told to her by countless doctors and nurses, but she didn’t even need them to tell her that when she looks at him and sees how awful he had looked those first few days. And when she thinks about it as a whole, she knows she’s lucky to be able to walk down the hall and see her son sleeping in his own bed. That — this shouldn’t be her reality.

When she tries to think about everything that’s happened in a positive light, she decides that things are getting better. Connor is on medication, in therapy, and overall he seems to be a little bit better than he had been. A little closer to the Connor she remembers from when he was a little boy. Larry had been better, he had been more hands on, more on board with therapy and listening to doctors, which is all she could’ve asked for.

And, despite not telling Zoe about it, she had gotten her daughter to agree to go to a therapy session. To talk to someone other than just the family about everything that had happened.

Cynthia isn’t naive, she knows that Zoe had largely been put on a back burner for most of her life. She had been so self sufficient that Cynthia hadn’t had to worry about her. She had been so worried about Connor that Zoe had just — she couldn’t be her first priority.

She’s pretty sure that makes her a bad mom. She’s done everything she could to apologize, but it comes out flat and it mostly feels too late and now she’s stuck in this limbo of trying to fix her one child while trying to mend the relationship with the other one.

She decides against going with Zoe to her therapy appointment, wanting to give her the space and not a reason to hate her even more for hovering. She wouldn’t necessarily consider herself a helicopter parent, but the last few weeks have made her a little… overprotective. And she just thinks that maybe Zoe going alone is the best idea for both of them in the moment.

Zoe walks in from the garage and smiles as she slips off her shoes, and Cynthia has to try _really_ hard not to immediately start asking a million questions about how it went and if she’s going to go back again and if she’s really as horrible as a mother as she’s been feeling.

She just — she wants to know a lot. And she doesn’t think everything is going to get answered immediately.

“It wasn’t awful,” Zoe finally says, her back turned as she digs through the fridge for a drink. “I know you’re dying to know.”

Cynthia smiles, sliding into a seat at the island in hopes that maybe Zoe will sit and talk to her.

She doesn’t sit, but she does linger at the island, so. Success, at least in Cynthia’s mind.

“Do you feel like it helped at all?” She asks, idly tapping her fingers against the counter. She has a lot of hope resting on the fact that therapy is helping at least one of her kids, although she feels like maybe getting her hopes up isn’t the right thing to do in this situation.

She just. She wishes there was some sort of guide or book that could help her parent through this situation.

“I mean, it was only one session. It wasn’t that long either,” Zoe counters, holding her cup in her hand. “He wants me to keep a journal. He said it would help sort out my thoughts about Connor and everything that happened the last few years.”

Cynthia nods, taking a minute to collect her thoughts before she answers Zoe. It’s been the one thing she’s been trying to work on lately — thinking things through.

“So, do you think you’re going to keep going? Or at least try to write the journal?”

Zoe reaches into the center of the island, pulling some grapes and popping one into her mouth as she shrugs. “I made an appointment for 2 weeks from now. I guess I could give the journal thing a shot, but it’s kind of — I don’t see how it’s going to work.”

Cynthia nods, watching Zoe as she tries to read anything about how she’s feeling. “Maybe the journal is one of those things that will make more sense when you try it,” She suggests. Zoe nods, sighing. “I’m glad you made another appointment though, baby. I really think this will be beneficial for you in the long run. Even if you don’t make this a habit.”

“Yeah, don’t get too excited. I don’t know how long this is going to last,” Zoe smirks, and although Cynthia wants to be disappointed about all of this, she also knows she needs to be realistic. Zoe was right with her initial argument — Connor needed the therapy more than her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re giving it a chance now,” She smiles, but Zoe doesn’t seem at all like she wants to keep talking about something she didn’t even want to do. “I promise Connor won’t find out, okay?” She says quickly, mostly because there’s one thing that she does think will set Zoe over the edge and make her even more upset than she has been is if Connor had found out.

Cynthia understands. She doesn’t think it’d be beneficial for either of them if Connor knew Zoe was seeing Dr. Taylor, honestly. At least not right now.

Zoe nods, and then quickly leaves the room to go upstairs. And while Cynthia is left alone in the kitchen once again, she finds that her head is swimming with everything that’s changing.

She can’t help but wonder if anything will ever feel okay again. For all of them.

—

In the grand scheme of things, writing the journal really shouldn’t be that hard.

It’s not like it’s being graded, and even if Dr. Taylor asks to see it when she’s back in his office, he told her not to edit it or really think too much into what she’s writing. So it’s not like he’ll be mad if she writes nonsense that barely makes sense.

But she still sits at her desk in her room, tapping her pen against the wood as she tries to think of _anything_ to write for any of the prompts on the list that she still feels like she can’t get used to. Because she can’t figure out how this became her reality.

After a few more minutes of contemplating and reading through the list of prompts as if one was suddenly going to jump out at her to pick like it’s the easiest, Zoe decides on “Today I feel…”. Which almost makes her laugh when she thinks about how Dr. Taylor would probably just ask her this in person when she sees him again and she’d have an entirely different answer. It just feels so ridiculously stereotypical, but it’s just enough for Zoe to feel like she’ll be able to get through the journal entry with relative ease for her first one.

After starting and restarting what she wanted to say a million times over, Zoe decides the best way to approach this is to just write and not think about anything else.

_“Today I feel…”_

_I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to start these journal entries. Writing this journal doesn’t come easy for me, but I’m willing to give it a shot because despite how awful you were to me the last few years, I really do want to fix things. And maybe this is where we start. You were awful, and although things are changing, I think we still have a lot to sort through. Or at least I have a lot I need to sort through._

_I feel like I’m betraying you a little bit, because you would freak if you knew I was seeing Dr. Taylor like you are. I feel bad a little bit, because for years you had asked to go to therapy and then when you got it and Dad would take you out of it, you freaked. I know at least that much wasn’t your fault, and I would hope that now that you’re on meds and in therapy you’d be able to see why it’s a good thing I’m going to therapy, too. So we can both heal. I want to do whatever I can to help fix us._

_So today I feel conflicted, because I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel. The last week or two have been better because you’re on meds and you’re out of the hospital. Things in the hospital weren’t great, but this feels a little better. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not a perfect sibling relationship. We still fight, I still walk on eggshells around you, but we’re not fighting as much. We’re civil. It’s kind of nice, actually. Having a nice version of you in the house again._

_I kind of feel silly writing this to you. There’s been so much shit that’s happened between us the last few years that I don’t even know where to begin sorting it all out. I know this journal is supposed to bring me clarity, but now that you’re on meds I feel like my opinion on you is starting to change. I feel like maybe this will help me see the good parts of you again, even though the bad outweighs all of that right now. At least that’s what I hope I get out of this._

_I’m sure this will get easier the longer I write to you, but honestly I hope you never read this. I’m not sure how you’d take it, because I plan on being totally honest. Which I haven’t been with you. Somehow I love you, and I don’t want this to ruin things between us._

_Let’s hope the next journal gets easier._

_Your sister,_

_Zoe._

She decides against rereading what she wrote, closing the notebook and shoving it back in her backpack where the risk of Connor finding it was almost nonexistent.

If she somehow made it through this assignment while keeping it a secret, she thinks it’ll be a miracle.


	2. I'm sorry for what I did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where there's a glimpse of the old Connor and Zoe relationship, Zoe helps Alana, and Cynthia tries to fix the relationship with Zoe.

Alana Beck is an overachiever.

It’s not something that’s necessarily shocking to anyone who’s even met her for a minute. Alana Beck feels the need to dip her toes in as many projects and organizations as she possibly can, and frankly, Zoe finds it exhausting.

She meets Zoe for lunch on the days where her internships don’t overlap, and Zoe is mostly exhausted for Alana. And slightly impressed. She doesn’t know how she even has time to meet with her, let alone have any time for herself to just like, sit on the couch or sit in bed and do nothing.

Which is why when Alana asks if she can stop by the art store for her to grab some things for her internship project they had given her, Zoe immediately says yes. Because if Alana Beck is asking for help, Zoe figures she actually means it.

And while Zoe in general is trying to be a better sister, she figures maybe asking Connor to come to the art store is a step in the right direction to making things better. Which it won’t, but Connor agrees to come and Zoe spends most of the car ride wondering if she should say something or just shut up and let the music fill the silence as if Connor is some stranger she just picked up on the side of the road.

Connor used to be one of her best friends. And now she has to worry about saying something that would piss him off and maybe make her crash the car or something.

Which is irrational.

Connor coming to the art store with her really isn’t as bad as she had prepared herself for. He stays mostly quiet, following her around the store and steering her in the right direction when he looks at her list of things Alana sent her. She wants to say it’s normal, but in reality it’s not. Nothing between she and Connor is normal, and a trip to the art store isn’t going to fix everything.

Connor walks around the store to get things for himself, offering to pay with his own money which almost makes Zoe drop all of her things. “I thought you’d want to use Mom and Dad’s card,” She says, not expecting some sort of huge reaction from Connor despite his half smile while he shrugs.

“I have a lot of money now that I’m not buying drugs,” He explains, which. Okay. It was a little more to the point than Zoe thought he would’ve been.

She also isn’t totally convinced that Connor isn’t lying about the whole not buying drugs things anymore. She gets he’s on house arrest basically, but like. It just doesn’t seem like that would be the case. She feels like Connor is smart enough to find a way to buy weed at the very least and still get high.

She really doesn’t think it should be that big of a surprise that she has little faith in her brother.

It’s not that Zoe is expecting some sort of full-fledged conversation with Connor on the way home, but the store had been mostly okay and Zoe almost believes that this whole recovery thing is going to be a lot easier than she thought.

But then Connor _does_ start talking to her and she isn’t sure if she would rather the drive just be silent or if she should be excited about that fact that Connor doesn’t completely hate her today.

“Why do you always do nice things for Alana?” Connor asks when Zoe pulls out onto the main road. He’s staring straight ahead, but his fingers are tapping against his jeans and Zoe just doesn’t know where this is going to lead.

She shrugs. “She’s my friend. She’s a little… high-strung. She means well, but sometimes she says she can do things and it becomes too much, so I help her out,” She says, keeping her eyes focused on the road. She can see Connor nod out of the corner of her eye, sinking back against the headrest.

“Do you want to fix this between us?” He asks abruptly the closer she gets to home. There’s a moment where Zoe wonders if he’s just leading her on, trying to find a loophole where she contradicts herself because she definitely answered this in the hospital. And answering it again will probably be the worst thing in the world, especially if she’s wrong.

“I do want to, I told you that when you were in the hospital,” She finally says, glancing over at him when she stops at a red light. She’s never been able to judge his reactions, but if she’s being honest, even if she could she doesn’t think she’d be able to tell if he’s pissed off or not. And that scares her. “I think we can fix all of this, but I — this trip isn’t magically going to make us best friends again. It’s… it’s going to take a lot to trust you. And I know you don’t want to hear that, but… we need to give this time.”

Zoe can hear Connor sigh, which immediately sends her into a tailspin of thinking because he’s definitely still stronger than her and there’s really nothing stopping him from reaching over and like, grabbing the wheel and veering them of the road.

“I really am sorry for everything. I know I’m an awful brother,” He finally says quietly, fiddling with the ring on his finger.

It’s not that Zoe ever thought Connor would apologize or admit that he hasn’t been a great brother the last few years, but she ends up gripping the steering wheel a little harder and praying that Connor doesn’t notice. Because of all the things that would happen, she just didn’t expect this this soon. Connor — he hasn’t been the type to apologize, even when they were the best of friends. And hearing him say it out loud as if it’s the one thing that they needed to do to fix things, it was — it felt like a step in the right direction.

“I wouldn’t say you’ve been awful,” Zoe teases, a wry smile on her face. “You’ve had some good moments. Even when you were threatening to kill me, there were times where you were still a good brother. I just… I need more time to trust you again,” She tries, praying that somehow that keeps the peace between them, at least for a little bit.

Connor smiles, nodding as he looks over at her. “I can live with that. Giving it time. Figuring this out. You and me — everything that’s been going on, I need to figure it all out. But I can deal if you’re going to be able to give me a chance,” He says quietly.

Zoe agrees just by nodding, thankful that this conversation ended the way that it had, the exact way she could have envisioned it if she was living in a dream.

—

Alana is… Zoe hates to use the term high-strung. Alana tries really hard, she seems like she’s generally good at everything, and sometimes when Zoe is hanging out with her she gets stressed out purely because Alana is so stressed out. And they go in endless circles until eventually Zoe forces Alana to just stop working on everything and hang out with her without worrying about school work or work for the millions of volunteer positions Alana has seemed to volunteer herself for.

So when Alana asks if Zoe can stick around and help her make the posters for her internship, Zoe feels like she has to say yes. But there’s a reason she quit art when she got to high school, and when she takes a step back and looks at her creations she immediately feels horrible that she’s ruining Alana’s reputation at her internship — which was probably pretty high because that’s just how Alana is.

“I’m ruining everything, I’m sorry,” Zoe says when Alana peers over her shoulder, smiling. “You really should’ve just done this, I’m sure your internship will like, freak out at how bad this looks. And I’m sure you have a really good reputation there and they’re going to see this and be like okay what the hell we thought she was good at everything.”

“Zoe, it’s fine, really,” Alana assures her, but Zoe kind of thinks she’s just saying that to be nice and not hurt Zoe’s feelings. Because if there’s one thing about Alana Beck, it’s that she cares a lot about how things look. And Zoe’s known her long enough to know that this isn’t up to Alana’s standards. “It looks fine, you’re just being hard on yourself. And my internship just wants them done, they’ll love this. Frankly, I think this is more than what they were expecting.”

Zoe just nods, because starting an argument about how she’s an awful artist really doesn’t seem like the right move here, letting silence fall between the two of them for a few minutes.

“So, I asked Connor to come to the art store with me this morning and he actually did,” She brings up, because not talking about it is apparently killing her.

Alana raises her eyebrows, smiling as she continues to work on her own poster. “How was that? I didn’t think he’d be up for going out like that anytime soon.”

“Neither did I,” Zoe shrugs, putting some final touches on the poster as if it would really fix everything she had done wrong to it. “But it was fine. He was pretty quiet, we talked in the car about fixing things between us, and I really do think with time it will get better. It’s just odd, I guess. It’s been years since we’ve been even remotely civil.”

“Well,” Alana smiles, clapping her hands together as she takes both posters to dry. “I think that’s probably a good start for the two of you. Regardless of your opinions on Connor the last few years, I’m sure it’ll change now that he’s on meds. Things really can’t get worse,” She tries, but Zoe is too afraid to agree with that because she fears there’s a chance Connor _will_ get worse, and she wouldn’t know how to deal with that.

So instead she just nods, praying that Alana’s overoptimism pays off this time, and Alana somehow manages to even know that she and Connor will be fine again eventually.

—

The last time Zoe can remember going out to lunch with just Cynthia, Zoe had just broken her elbow in a freak bike accident on their street when she was 8. She was bribed with her favorite diner lunch if she just held still for the nurse to put on the cast, and when they finished Zoe ate the most french fries her stomach could handle, downing them with a milkshake.

So when Cynthia texts her asking if she wants to meet for lunch while Connor is at therapy, she’s caught off guard. She misses spending time like this with her mom, misses the little shopping dates or coffee dates they would go on every once in a while, but they all stopped when Connor got really bad and Cynthia feared leaving him alone to spend one on one time with her daughter.

The diner isn’t crowded, and Cynthia is already sitting in the back corner booth while taking the liberty to order both of them sodas.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zoe says quickly, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. Cynthia just smiles, and Zoe forgets for a minute that they’re there because Connor is down the street at therapy.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything with you and Alana,” Cynthia says quietly, watching Zoe as she flips through the menu. “I just figured it’s been so long since we’ve done something like this. And I’m — I think we all need to try a little harder. For all of us, not just Connor.”

Zoe nods, handing the waitress the menu after she orders, looking back at her mom. “I was just helping Alana with some internship things,” She says quickly, hoping that Cynthia doesn’t ask a million questions that Zoe knows she won’t have the answer to. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you texted me about coming.”

“I’m sorry for putting you on the back burner these last few weeks. Or I guess years, really,” Cynthia begins, reaching forward for her own soda. “That shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t — you’re just as important as Connor. That’s not something to argue about.”

“I get it,” Zoe retorts, twisting her straw between her fingers. “Connor needs you way more than I do right now. Even the last few years, you kind of had to be worried about him. I wasn’t expecting him to come home for the hospital and things to be… different. Like you would have more time for me or something. He still needs you, probably even more now.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I never said it did,” Zoe shrugs, sighing. She wishes she could like, not have this conversation in the middle of a diner where people are definitely listening. “I’m just saying that I get it.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re being left behind in all of this,” Cynthia argues, staring at Zoe with the most serious eyes Zoe has seen in years. She can’t remember the last time her mom cared this much about something like this. About _anything_ going on with her. “I don’t want — I love you and Connor the same amount. The two of you mean more than anything to me. I don’t want you to think otherwise.”

Zoe nods immediately, mostly out of habit than anything else because she’s been kind of rude to her mom from the minute she sat down, and Cynthia is really trying to make this work for both of them. “I don’t feel like that, I promise,” She says, which isn’t a lie. She’s always known her parents loved her the same amount they loved Connor, but at the same time she’d never be able to say that Connor was favored more by her mom when they were fighting.

Her mom had always made excuses for Connor’s behavior. Even when he had threatened to kill Zoe, she always made some sort of excuse that really didn’t make sense. Zoe just never saw it as her mom loving her any less. She thought it was just some parent thing, like a knee jerk reaction to wanting to protect your child even though they’re the most horrible person on the planet.

Frankly, she thought both of her parents sucked at managing how to deal with Connor.

Cynthia steals a glance at her phone and Zoe mostly thinks it’s because she’s slightly worried that Connor is somehow freaking out in therapy, as if he hadn’t been completely fine the first few weeks. It’s the first time Cynthia has left him there without her being right in the waiting room, and Zoe can almost understand the anxiety her mom is probably feeling.

It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t wish her mom was a little more present at the lunch she invited her to.

“So, I haven’t heard much about that assignment you were talking about he other night. The journal Dr. Taylor said you should write in? Have you started it?” Cynthia asks, which catches Zoe off guard because normally when Cynthia was interested in something like journaling she would ask a million questions whenever she had them. Zoe likes to think she hasn’t because they never know when Connor is listening, which is at least considerate of her.

Zoe sighs, leaning back when her sandwich is placed in front of her as she thanks the waitress. “I’ve written one journal entry, but it still feels so weird to write to Connor when he’s alive and theoretically I should be able to just walk down the hall and air out all the issues with us over the last few years.” It feels weird talking about this with her mom. Like maybe she’ll just take Connor’s side in all of this and say that things weren’t really that bad, that the journal is probably difficult because there’s probably not much that she could end up writing about. Which won’t get them anywhere.

“You two went through a lot together,” Cynthia says after she swallows a bite of her own sandwich. “Walking into his room and talking to him probably won’t get you anywhere, but I know things haven’t been easy for you the last few years. I don’t want you to ever feel like I don’t know that. And things might be better now, but you’ve still been through a lot and journaling would probably help with that.”

Biting into her sandwich, Zoe shrugs as she buys time by swallowing and chewing at the slowest pace. “I guess so, yeah. I’m not telling him I’m doing this though.”

“Just like you’re not telling him you’re also seeing Dr. Taylor?” Cynthia replies, a smile tugging at her lips. “Zoe, he deserves to know some things. I get it, you don’t want him to know everything. But you don’t need to keep him in the dark about _everything_ that you’re doing.”

It’s pretty ironic coming from Cynthia, who’s really going along with this whole thing because she’s pushing all of it. She doesn’t sound mad, but Zoe can’t help but think that if she waits a few more weeks without saying anything to her brother Cynthia will tell Connor or slip up or something.

Zoe sighs, reaching for her soda. “Okay, well I think telling him I’m seeing Dr. Taylor will only make things worse. And if I told him I’m writing a journal about him, he’d ask who’s making me do that. Which would force me to tell him about therapy. He asked for therapy for years and never properly got it, and now all of a sudden he’s getting it and now his little sister also gets it? He’d just be pissed that I’m getting something too when it’s obvious that he needs it more and he can just never have anything for himself.”

Zoe really didn't mean to make the conversation awkward. It’s been months since she’s been totally honest with her mom, telling her exactly what she thought about Connor when he wasn’t getting help. Just now he is and she has even more thoughts she’s been afraid to share until now, apparently.

But now her mom is staring at her as if she had just said that she was moving across the world, like maybe she’s going to cry or something and apologize profusely and Zoe wishes she had maybe just been like, a little more sensitive to exactly how her felt. Especially when she had just said how he needs help more than her earlier at lunch.

“I get it, Zoe. Connor needed the help more, and you don’t want him to feel like you’re undermining him,” She says carefully, like maybe she doesn’t have everything totally down. Zoe nods dumbly, pushing a chip around the plate with her finger. “I understand that, I really do. I get that you’re wanting to look out for him and I think it’s sweet. But maybe think about telling him eventually? Maybe when things start getting better between the two of you.”

Zoe sighs, taking another bite of her sandwich as she nods. “Fine, I’ll think about it,” She concedes, although the air still feels tense and Zoe can’t help but feel like that’s her fault. “But I’m not ready for that yet. I need more time to like, sort through my thoughts or whatever. Figure all of this out. Maybe do a few more journal entries,” She smiles because obviously bringing up the therapy work is a win in Cynthia’s book, and that seems to be enough to ease the tension.

“Maybe start slow,” Cynthia says as she pays for the check. “I’m sure he’d love to hang out with you, even just at home or something. He was in a good mood when you two got back from the art store this morning. I think being with someone other than me was good for him. And it might help fix your relationship,” She says, grabbing her purse and following her daughter out to their cars.

“I’ll see if he wants to do something tonight. Maybe hang out and watch a movie. I mean, it can’t hurt,” She shrugs, kicking a piece of gravel underneath her feet.

“I think that’s the perfect start,” Cynthia says, checking her phone again before kissing Zoe on the cheek and mumbling something about how she has to get back to the office before Connor is done.

Zoe walks to her car slowly, waving to her mom as she pulls out before climbing into her own car, picking at her nail polish while she tries to process everything that had happened at lunch.

She comes to the conclusion that if her mom is going to be happy about something as easy as Zoe making an effort to be nice to her brother, this whole recovery thing will be exhausting for the two of them.

—

 

Just like most nights since he’s been home from the hospital, Connor eats the bare minimum at dinner, says almost nothing, and retreats back to his room after clearing his plate.

“Things aren’t going to get better if he keeps retreating like that,” Larry mumbles as he takes a sip of wine. Zoe rolls her eyes. No one notices.

“Larry, he's still adjusting. I’ll talk to him,” Cynthia says, but it’s mostly to keep the peace Zoe decides, because her mom really isn’t making any moves to walk upstairs and talk to Connor or force him to stay, and Zoe doesn’t think she’d bring it up after the fact.

Zoe helps Cynthia clean the kitchen up a little, mumbling about how she’s going to shower once the last dish is put in the dishwasher and things look semi put together.

Larry took Connor’s door off its hinges the second night he was in the hospital. Zoe remembers him coming home, grabbing his tools and beginning the process while explaining that he could have it back when things were better. If they were ever better. Zoe stood in the hallway watching him, wondering how her life had gotten so screwed up that her older brother couldn’t even have a bedroom door because they lived in fear that he would try to kill himself again.

Now it just makes it easier to see that Connor is laying in bed watching Netflix, but his eyes are sort of glazed over with his glasses halfway down his nose and Zoe doesn’t think he’s really paying any attention to whatever show he put on anyway.

“Hey, Connor,” She says without thinking, standing in his doorway with no real plan about what she’s supposed to do. She’s half hoping Connor will just ignore her at this point. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But instead he looks over, pushing his glasses up his nose as his eyebrows furrow. “Did Mom and Dad send you to come yell at me or something? Or you’re going to yell at me for something I did today?” His tone is accusing, but Zoe mostly thinks he sounds exhausted. She’d almost feel bad if she didn’t feel like wanting to vanish into thin air at the awkwardness of this all.

Zoe frowns, shaking her head. “No, I — do you maybe want to hang out for a little bit? You’ve gotta hate hanging out here alone all the time, and I know Evan can’t hang out tonight,” She offers, but it’s obvious Connor _does_ like being alone, so that excuse didn’t even work.

She also realizes how creepy it is that she knows Evan can’t hang out that night. She’s more hoping that’s a fact Connor won’t acknowledge.

He sighs, running his fingers through her hair. “You actually want to hang out with me? You?” He asks, and while it sounds a little bitter, Zoe doesn’t think he actually means it.

So she shrugs, staring down at her feet. “Obviously you can say no, but if we want things to get better, maybe hanging out is a start?” She asks, almost as if he’s going to say yes immediately and things will be perfect. As if one night of not talking while they watch Netflix together makes this whole thing normal again.

But instead there’s this awkward pause that Zoe kind of thinks about just walking away from until Connor sighs. “I’m watching _Parks and Rec_. You can watch with me if you want. I’m just… I’m not up for anything else.”

She wasn’t expecting him to say yes at all, so naturally she gives him this smile that is so unnatural it just makes things even more awkward, quickly crossing his room and sitting on his window seat. Baby steps, she figures. Connor probably wasn’t ready to share his bed with his sister so they could watch TV.

They sit in silence for over an hour, but when Connor drifts off Zoe sneaks out, figuring that things are a little better than they had been that morning.

—

Whatever hopes Zoe had in this whole journal thing getting easier were apparently thrown out the window when she sits down again and looks at the prompts, none of them jumping out at her.

All she could think about was how much she wanted to like, not have to do this. But it was the bare minimum she could do, and if it was going to help she and Connor then she figured it was worth a shot.

It just… it wasn’t getting any easier to write these notes and she wasn’t even sure what she should pick that even makes sense.

If closing your eyes and pointing to a random one was a horrible technique, then Zoe was in the running for the worst patient in Dr. Taylor’s office.

_“Today I remembered…”_

_We’re going to pretend like I picked this one because of some profound meaning or some memory that popped into my head when I saw it, but in reality I just didn’t know what else to write about._

_I guess lately I’ve been thinking a lot about how you’re finally in therapy. It’s something you’ve begged for for years, something that you’ve had before, but now we’re in this place where I finally understand how much therapy is going to help you._

_Today I remembered the first time you went to therapy when we were like, 12 and 13. I thought it was so ridiculous that you even thought you had to go, because back then I thought you were such a brat and only acting out because you wanted the attention that Mom and Dad were giving me. I figured maybe you thought they weren’t paying enough attention to you._

_I remember how I called you a freak and a psycho and you were seriously messed up if you thought you needed therapy, and I hate that I did that. I know things were bad between us, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I probably made things worse for you. Because I’m sure me making fun of you made things worse, and then you got pulled out of therapy and I’m sure you thought that I was just going to be worse._

_I don’t think I realized how awful I was to you all those years until you tried to kill yourself. I had told myself that you were the problem. It was you who changed, it was your fault that you got so mad at me that you threatened to kill me. It was like I could do no wrong, which obviously wasn’t the case. And I’m sorry that I put so much of the blame on you and thought that I could do no wrong._

_I feel like I should apologize in person, and with time I will. But right now it feels good to admit that I was part of the problem, that it wasn’t only you. And I think that if we can agree to this or if I can admit to this, we can start to get better._

_I’m going to apologize on behalf of Mom and Dad too. They shouldn’t have pulled you out of that first therapy so early. They should’ve like, tried a little more. And today when I realized that we had all said this was a you problem, we weren’t taking the blame. We totally should’ve been._

_I hope that this somehow starts us getting better, even if you’re never going to read this. Maybe this will help me come to terms with things, and eventually we can talk about it._

_For now I’ll just keep it in this journal._

_Zoe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Butterfly by Weezer.
> 
> thank you for the love on the first chapter! hopefully you guys continue to like this :) since i'm only uploading this once a week, chapters will be longer than they have been in the past! :)
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr! for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> more next sunday!


	3. You know it can get hard sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Zoe finds old photos and is reminded how good things used to be.

Zoe can genuinely think of nothing that Cynthia loves more than deep cleaning the house.

It’s been like this since she can remember. Cynthia would wake up one morning, wake Connor and Zoe up, feed them breakfast and announce that they were cleaning the whole house that day. Going through toys and clothes, picking things to donate or throw out. Zoe and Connor would groan, fight over toys they couldn’t agree what to do with, Cynthia would end up getting frustrated, but the house would be a new kind of clean at the end of the day.

She’s apparently decided that a rainy Summer day is the perfect time for the three of them to tackle the clutter that’s piled up in the house, which Zoe thinks is ridiculous. She’s almost ready for Connor to freak out about it, have his first outburst since he’s been home from the hospital because why would he want to do anything with them let alone cleaning the house.

But Cynthia announces it when the two of them are eating breakfast and Connor just shrugs, shoveling another bite of cereal in his mouth and staring at the placemat on the table.

It’s not that Zoe’s disappointed it didn’t come with more of a reaction, it’s just that she was kind of hoping if he freaked out Cynthia would abandon the whole idea in general.

Zoe goes through her room first, picking things out to donate or throw away before she moves downstairs, stumbling upon a box full of photos. Cynthia had always been into photography after taking a class about it in college, and so most of Connor and Zoe’s childhoods were captured in photos that had obviously been stored in the basement to sort through later.

She pulls a box off the shelf, moving over to sit on the sofa to go through them. This box had memories of one Summer when Connor looks about 6 and she was 5, his two front teeth missing. They had gone to California that year, climbing through the hills of Los Angeles and hitting all of the tourists sites. The trip was long, everyone exhausted by the time they returned home almost two weeks later, but Zoe and Connor had made a million memories and when Zoe thinks about those, she almost remembers how good things used to be. And how much she misses that.

Most of the photos make her smile, Connor always ahead of her as he’s smiling for the camera. He loved having his picture taken back then, which is a stark contrast to how things are now. It almost doesn’t feel like the same Connor, the same family. It’s almost like the people in these pictures are strangers, just a distant memory that maybe didn’t happen at all.

Zoe sorts through the photos, pulling out one when she gets towards the end of the pile. She’s immediately transported back to that day on the beach in California, where she and Connor had spent hours running in and out of the cold water, the sun kissing their skin and making them even tanner than they had been before.

The photo is of them on the waters edge, Connor’s arm wrapped tightly around Zoe’s shoulder as they’re both smiling for the camera.

Zoe remembers that day being so happy. She had Connor had laughed for hours, making up stupid games and getting covered in sand and salt water. And when she thinks hard enough, she can remember a million instances like this where they had had a good time together.

She pockets that photo along with a few others from that Summer, putting the lid back on the box and storing it back up on the shelf.

Maybe one day she’d show the pictures to Connor. Maybe when they were doing better, when things weren’t so tense and there still weren’t days where Zoe wasn’t totally convinced that he was getting better.

She moves back upstairs to help with the kitchen, smiling when Connor actually comes downstairs with a bag full of things from his room that he said they could donate.

Maybe things are going to be okay.

—

Zoe can’t remember the first time Alana’s house really began feeling like a second home. She started spending more time there when she was a sophomore and Alana was a junior, the two of them sharing a music class together. Alana was in it to bulk up her classes for colleges, but Zoe had been in jazz band, and as a lover of music she found herself wanting to take any music class that she could at school.

Now she comes to Alana’s and says hello to her parents before going upstairs with Alana, the two of them hanging out for hours working on homework or marathoning movies or TV shows.

“My mom went on one of those cleaning sprees today,” Zoe begins, laying down on Alana’s bed while she sorts through the new clothes she got for her internship. “And I got a little distracted when I was down the basement and I went through old pictures.”

She reaches in her bag, pulling out the pictures she had pocketed earlier. Which is definitely a weird thing to just carry around in your bag, she realizes as she’s digging through. “Look at these pictures. Look how little we were. How… how close we were,” She says quietly, as if it’s almost unbelievable that there was a time where they got along.

“Oh my god, the two of you were so cute!” Alana smiles as she comes over to sit on the bed, flipping through the pictures that Zoe handed her. “So you two were like best friends?”

“I was his shadow,” Zoe laughs. “Like when I say we did everything together, I’m not lying. It just seems like I am because of how things are now.”

Alana frowns, studying the pictures before looking back at Zoe. “Has Connor seen these? Does he know that you found them?”

Zoe laughs at that. “No, of course not. He was cleaning his room all morning and I didn’t want to ruin that or even attempt to show him something in case he got mad or whatever. I figured if I went up to show him some pictures I found from our trip to California he’d rip them up in front of me.”

“Well, I think maybe you should show him them,” Alana says, standing back up to finish organizing her clothes. “Not right now, I guess. But soon. It might help the two of you fix things. Make things a little less… tense,” She tries.

Zoe’s not buying it. “How are you always so optimistic that these things are going to work? It just doesn’t make sense. You’re an only child, first of all, and you just? You’re always so optimistic.”

Most people would take that as an insult. Alana falters for a minute, sighs, and then looks back to Zoe.

“Sometimes when things really suck you just have to be positive. I don’t have siblings so I have no idea what you’ve been through. I don’t think I can look at your situation and not be biased. Connor and I get along fine. He’s okay to me. But I really do think that you’re going to be fine. That you two will fix this, and someday you won’t have to worry about Connor freaking out or whatever.”

Zoe sighs, trying to will herself to believe that. “You really… you truly think something like that will happen?” She asks after a moment, apologizing quietly. It sounds ridiculous that Zoe would even ask her best friend something like that, but maybe Alana’s optimism was a good thing in this case. Maybe that’s exactly what she should be doing. “I didn’t mean like, you’re ridiculous for believing that. I guess I just… I don’t see that happening.”

“Because you’ve been living in hell,” Alana smiles. “Look, I don’t know much. I know what you tell me and a little of what Jared tells me about Evan and Connor. But I bet in a few months even you’ll be able to tell me how you’re hanging out with Connor so you don’t have time to come do homework with me.”

Zoe has to smile at her optimism.

“Give me time, I’ll show him the pictures eventually,” She concedes, and when Alana does this little cheer that makes Zoe laugh, she realizes that maybe everything will work out.

Alana’s optimism is infecting her, apparently.

—

Zoe knows that Connor doesn’t always have good days.

He’s on meds, he’s in therapy, but it’s not always good. There isn’t this magic switch that makes him better, and Zoe isn’t naive enough to believe that the meds were instantly going to make this whole recovery thing happen without any ups and downs. Sometimes she wishes she could make it that easy for him.

Zoe’s been getting pretty good at figuring out what’s a good day and what isn’t. It’s not a skill she’d like to have, but at least now she can tell if she’s supposed to steer clear of her brother or if he’s actually fine and she’s just being dramatic. And so each day when she wakes up she lets herself decide how she and Connor are actually going to get through the day, or if they’re actually ever going to be able to fix this like everyone thinks they’ll be able to.

She wakes up early for work, surprised to find Connor sound asleep on the sofa when she knew that Evan had slept over. The two of them had been inseparable since they were little, and Zoe just can’t see anything at this point making them not be friends anymore. If Evan had made it through Connor’s horrible years _and_ his suicide attempt? Zoe figured that was more than enough for him to be able to stick around.

That, and Evan probably would’ve gone home if it was that bad of a fight.

Then again, she feels like she doesn’t know anything anymore.

“Why is Connor sleeping on the couch? Isn’t Evan here?” She rattles off the questions without really thinking about them, and Cynthia just sighs as she continues getting breakfast ready for Zoe.

Zoe figures she's probably been worried about it for hours, the look on her face making it almost obvious at this point.

“Evan is here, he’s still asleep in Connor’s room. I don’t know why Connor is down here, but he’s sleeping and so we’re going to be quiet and keep it that way,” She says softly, but Zoe can hear the stress and worry behind her words as she slides Zoe’s eggs in front of her, and Zoe almost feels bad for asking. She knows her mom has been worried, Connor doesn’t sleep all that much, but she feels a little — she’s a little put off by the fact that her mom really does seem more worried about this than she had been letting on.

She leaves for work quietly, staring at her brother once more before she walks out the door and struggling to figure out how they got here out of all the years of struggles.

—

For some reason, Zoe thought a few hours at work would make things better at home. Like Connor would wake up and he’d explain everything and it would just… everything would be fine.

Which is ridiculous and mostly unrealistic, but at this point Zoe doesn’t know what’s realistic and what isn’t. So dreaming about what she wants just seems like the better option.

So when she walks in and her mom is sitting in the living room reading a magazine with Connor nowhere to be found, she’s a little conflicted on how she’s supposed to feel about all of this. Because obviously things weren’t miraculously better like Zoe had wished for the entire drive home.

“How was work, Zo? Busy?” Cynthia asks as she sets her magazine down on her lap. Zoe gasps quietly, toeing off her shoes and staring at her mom, trying to catch her breath and act like this was all totally normal.

“I didn't think you even heard me come in,” Zoe mumbles, sitting down in the chair. “It was okay. We were sort of busy, but I mostly just read through the new magazine that came in and then organized some records. Nothing too exciting,” She pauses, looking into the kitchen. “Where is Connor? Is Evan still here?”

Cynthia smiles, pulling her glasses off which indicates to Zoe that she wants to make this some sort of conversation. “Connor is in his room watching Netflix. Evan went home a little while ago, but they seemed fine. Connor said he was just having trouble sleeping and so he left his room so he didn’t wake Evan up.”

Zoe wonders how her mom believed that. If there was one thing Zoe remembered from when Evan would spend the night at their house when they were younger, it was that Evan is a heavy sleeper. Almost nothing wakes him up, which Zoe always found funny considering he was a little — to put it nicely, he’s an anxious kid.

Instead of bringing that up and making things awful again like she normally seems to do, she just nods and leans forward, digging through her bag for the photos she found yesterday. She’s been hiding them, not wanting to show anyone in her family for a reason she couldn’t even think of herself. She had just wanted them for herself, wanted to have something that was just hers and would hopefully help spark the memories she had of Connor.

But she’s trying to fix this with her mom, too, and she figures maybe letting her see what she found is a good place to start in an effort to not make this so awkward.

“So you know how yesterday you had us cleaning everything?” Zoe asks, maybe against her better judgment. It just comes out forced and Zoe kind of wishes she had approached this literally any other way. Cynthia sets her magazine back down, nodding. “Well, I was in the basement and I found the shelf of old pictures and got distracted.” Pausing, Zoe fishes through her bag and pulls out the few photos she had kept on her yesterday. “I found these from that Summer we went to California.”

She hands them over, and despite all the crying Cynthia had been doing over the last few weeks, she still looks like she’s about to cry then. It’s a miracle she even has any tears left. She flips through them slowly, almost as if each picture transports her back to the moment she had taken them. “We took you two to Disneyland. Connor ate so many sweets he was up sick most of the night,” She laughs at that, biting her lip as she shakes her head.

“There were a lot of good moments in that trip,” Zoe says idly. It was the perfect opportunity for her to chime in and talk about Connor, but she was so overwhelmed and it felt like nothing she said was right anyway. “We had a lot of fun on that adventure.”

“We did,” Cynthia nods, freezing on the last photo as she stares at it. “Maybe… I’d like — I think a trip like this would be really good for us,” She says, although Zoe isn’t sure she means it. It sounds like one of those ideas Cynthia has that she’ll get over in a few days when she realizes it’s unrealistic. “Obviously not right now. Not with Connor… he’s just not ready to go away on a vacation right now. But in a few months, I think it’d be really nice if we took a weekend trip somewhere.”

Zoe’s hearts beating a million miles a minute, too filled with worry about how it would feel to be on a vacation with Connor right now. Present day Connor, the one that she’s doing okay with, but still doesn’t get along with. It just doesn’t sit well with her.

And the sheer thought of what Connor would think about a forced family vacation is enough to make Zoe think she should just run away from her family now.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” She ends up saying, because Cynthia just looked like she genuinely believed this was a good idea and Zoe figures the last few weeks have been enough heartbreak for her. She doesn’t need more of it right now just because Zoe ruined it all.

“Did you show Connor those?” Cynthia asks, handing the photos back to Zoe as she wipes under her eyes, almost like she’s trying not to let Zoe see she was crying.

Zoe shakes her head, shoving them back in her bag. “He was in a bad mood yesterday, then I went to Alana’s and Evan was here when I got home. It just never felt like the right time, not that I’m sure it’ll ever feel like the right time.”

To Zoe’s surprise, Cynthia smiles. “Maybe waiting until he’s feeling a little better is a good idea. But I think he’d really like to see those pictures. Those boxes are probably filled with thousands of photos just like those.”

Zoe smiles. “Yeah, I’m sure they are,” She nods.

—

From the time Zoe and Connor were little, Larry had always gone to the garage after dinner to work on his projects. He never usually said what those projects were, but there was one weekend where he built Connor a bookshelf, and another weekend where Zoe got a picture frame that she immediately filled with photos of she and her friends and hung them up on the wall.

Zoe helped clean up from dinner, and when Cynthia had gone upstairs to check on Connor, Zoe decided to go out and pay a visit to her dad.

“Hey, kiddo. You haven’t been out here in a while,” He smiles, moving to his work bench.

“Just thought I would come see what you’re doing,” She says quietly, standing on the top step and looking at him. “What are you doing?”

Larry laughs at that, sorting through a box as he glances at Zoe. “I’ve been going through some things. Organizing, I guess.”

“Mom tell you she made me and Connor do that yesterday? Is that why you’re doing your place today?” Zoe leans against the doorway half wondering if her dad will get annoyed that she’s asking all these questions.

Larry smiles, shaking his head as he glances towards Zoe. “Well, she did tell me you and Connor helped her clean the house. But this needed to be sorted through anyway. I found a bin of your brother’s old baseball things earlier. Clearly it’s been years since I’ve gone through this stuff.”

Zoe nods, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. She remembers the fight that ensued when Connor announced at dinner he was quitting baseball when he was 9. Larry was beside himself, the one thing that connected him to Connor suddenly vanishing. He had offered to work with him more at batting or catching, offered to find him a different team if he didn’t want to play with kids from school.

Connor went on a rant about how he was terrible and his legs were too long to not look completely awkward running the bases. He complained that he couldn’t catch anyway, that trying to teach him was useless, and he found a different club he could do after school so he’d still be talking to people. He said that none of the kids liked him anyway, and he’d much rather do something that he liked where maybe he’d make friends instead of being on the baseball team where everyone looked at him like he was a freak.

He thought of everything. Cynthia said he could quit. Larry spent the rest of the week trying to convince Connor to stick it out.

Connor won. When the signups came in the mail, Larry recycled them.

“Are you mad at Connor?” She blurts out, completely without filter and even a second thought. If her dad wasn’t mad before, she’s pretty sure this is going to set him off.

Larry sighs. “I’m not mad at him. I — we should’ve noticed when he didn’t say anything. It shouldn’t have been his responsibility to reach out.”

Zoe nods. She’s been saying that for years. That Connor needed help. It was Larry who insisted it was puberty, then it was for attention.

She doesn’t bring that up.

“Is Connor mad at you?”

Larry looks exhausted. He opens his mouth to answer, closes it. And then sighs. “I think that’s a question for Connor.”

“Dr. Taylor told me that to help fix the relationship I have to put effort in. Connor probably isn’t going to do it himself because it’s overwhelming. Maybe you should ask him to hang out, or I don’t know. Do something with him. He’d probably be pretty quiet, but I bet it’d mean a lot,” She says softly. She’s waiting for her dad to freak out, to say how one therapy session isn’t going to tell her everything.

He never liked therapy before. Zoe can’t imagine his opinion has changed that quickly. Especially now that both of his kids are going.

“So Dr. Taylor is having an impact on you, too?” He asks, but it doesn’t sound mad or rude or anything. It seems… genuine. Like he really wants to know.

Zoe shrugs. “I mean I’m willing to bet he’s helping Connor much more than he’s helping me. Connor already seems better. But it was kind of nice to talk to someone that wasn’t you or Mom. But Connor doesn’t know I’m going, and I plan to keep it that way,” She smiles.

Larry smiles in return. “I’ll think of something to do with him. I think we could all stand to be better for Connor.”

Zoe didn't expect that answer, and instead of poking the bear or making things worse, she turns on her heels with a quick love you and walks back into the house.

She feels like she’s living in some sort of twilight zone.

—

The journal seems to be a haunting thought in her mind, constantly nagging her to pick something and just write so at least she’s attempted the assignment. So today when Zoe picks a topic she just goes for the one that she ends up reading first.

A new solid strategy that she’ll probably abandon for the next entry.

_“If I could sum you up in three words…”_

_Stubborn. Unpredictable. Fighter._

_This prompt is really hard for me. I tried to pick words that had some sort of positivity laced behind them, but since the last few years have been challenging to say the least, these are the best three that I could come up with. I think you’d understand that._

_I picked stubborn for obvious reasons. Ever since you were little you’ve always known what you wanted, and you weren’t going to let me just win. Even if it was something stupid like you riding the bike while I rode the scooter, you refused to compromise, refused to even think for a second that I could ride the bike instead. And even today, despite the fact that you and I aren’t on great terms we still talk. I asked you to come watch a movie with me in the living room, but you only agreed if we stayed in your room. Your stubborn for the best reasons and the worst reasons, but it’s a trait that you definitely haven’t lost in this whole journey._

_When I think about you being unpredictable, I think of it in the worst ways. You were unpredictable in the sense that I didn’t know if you would ignore me that day or threaten to kill me. I didn’t know if a joke I had said the day before that you found funny would end with me getting death threats the following day. It’s been a life full of unpredictability with you, but for some reason when I think about you being unpredictable, I think about all the bad memories I have that come with that._

_And you’re a fighter. This is cheesy. This is so cringey and you would absolutely roll your eyes and tell me to shut up if you read this or heard me say it. But you started getting bad when you were 13. You had a weak suicide attempt back then, one that only landed you in the hospital for a few days and then into therapy which dad took you out of. Everything has been stacked against you, but you fought to stay alive, you fought to get better until you couldn’t anymore. And when you did finally try to kill yourself, your body fought to keep you alive. It obviously isn’t what you wanted, but I’m glad it did fight. Because even though you and I aren’t great and we don’t have our best moments right now, having you here is way better than having you dead._

_I found pictures from when we were little the other day, and I fully plan on showing them to you when things are a little less… tense. But in them we were so young, and it was obvious we were best friends. It’s obvious I was attached at the hip to you, that we spent all our time together and vacation was no different._

_It’s not like that now. It hasn’t been for years. Your mental illness took that away from me, but I have no reason to believe that with time we can’t get back to that. It’ll take a ton of time and a lot of effort from both of us (I’ll carry us through for a while in the beginning), but I really do think we can get back to being that happy._

_I just hope you’re willing to give me a chance._

_Zo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title of chapter from Photograph by Ed Sheeran :)
> 
> sorry for not posting last week! time got away from me, but hopefully it'll be weekly from here on out :)
> 
> you can talk to me on tumblr if you'd like - for-f0rever.tumblr.com :)
> 
> see you next week! <3


	4. what drives us crazy draws us closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe goes to therapy and she and Connor bond.

Dr. Taylor shares his office with a few other therapists, so today the waiting room is a little more crowded than usual. Zoe keeps her nose buried in a magazine that’s at least six months old, praying that no one from school walks in and sees her sitting there, wondering why on Earth she’s seeing a therapist.

“I’m sorry for running a little late,” Dr. Taylor says as they walk down the narrow hallway and back towards a private room. “There was an issue this morning that took a little longer. It’s set me back the whole day.”

The worst part is, Zoe can’t even be mad or upset about that. She’s pretty sure Connor was the issue the morning after his attempt.

She feels like she should say something, like he was probably testing to see if she was making normal conversation or if this whole thing was just a facade for how she’s really feeling. But instead she just mumbles some sort of sentence about how it’s fine and she’s not busy, and slides into the room to sit down on the sofa before she says anything else.

“I’m really glad you decided to come back, Zoe. I know that was probably a difficult decision for you,” He says as he sits down, situating his pen and paper on his lap. Zoe nods, biting the inside of her lip.

If he’s just going to be proud of her like this every time, she’s pretty sure she’ll just stop coming.

“I mean, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone who’s not a family member or a friend. I can rant to them, but they kind of have biased opinions on Connor.”

Dr. Taylor smiles. “Do your friends know Connor well?”

“Not really,” Zoe counters. “Some of my friends just know he’s my brother, and ranting to them would be kind of pointless because they don’t really have any opinions on Connor. He’s just there, and he’s a person, but they just know about the rumors people have said about him. And my other friends are friends with Connor, so he’s nicer to them than he’s ever been to me. Obviously they’re not going to totally see why I have so much… resentment to my brother.”

“What are the rumors about your brother?” Dr. Taylor asks, eyebrows furrowed. Zoe quickly realizes that Connor probably never brought them up in therapy, either because he didn’t remember them, or because he just doesn’t want to talk about them. So now somehow he’s going to find out that she’s going to therapy and she’s talking about how people spread rumors about him in school. Which means he’ll hate her more than he ever has before and Zoe will probably just sink into a hole at this point because it’ll be easier than living with a brother who hates her. “Remember Zoe, anything you say here doesn’t leave this room. Connor doesn’t know you’re here, and I promise I won’t bring up the rumors to him so he finds out.”

Zoe nods, hating that he can clearly read her mind. “People just used to call him a school shooter. He threw a printer at his teacher in the second grade so it kind of started then, but it got way worse when he got to high school. If they weren’t calling him a school shooter then they were calling him a psycho or a freak.” She stops herself, staring down at her lap. “I didn’t help that, I kind of called him a psycho or laughed at people who were making fun of him.” It almost feels good to get it off her chest, to admit that she is a huge part of the problem. But there’s still this weight in her stomach that admitting that isn’t nearly enough.

“There was a lot going on,” Dr. Taylor says, writing a few things down. Zoe figures it’s probably all about how Zoe contributes to all the problems surrounding Connor. “It’s not okay that you were a part of all of that, but sometimes what’s happening in our lives makes us choose the wrong decision. It can’t always be helped.”

“There’s a million things that I could’ve done better, but we’d be here for days talking about that,” She tries to joke, a smile forming on her lips. It mostly comes out flat.

Surprisingly, Dr. Taylor smiles in return. “Did you write in the journal I suggested? Even an entry or two?” He asks, catching Zoe off guard for a moment.

She nods, digging through her bag before pulling it out and setting it on her lap. “I did, yeah. A few at least, but I actually think it helped more than I thought it would. I was a little skeptical.”

Dr. Taylor laughs at that. “You were, but I’m glad you decided to give it a shot. I don’t need to read it right now, but do you think it’s helping you connect with Connor a little bit?”

Zoe sighs, letting the question sink into her brain a little longer this time. It hadn’t _not_ helped, but in the grand scheme of things, she doesn’t think that she can attribute the progress she and Connor made together all to the journal she had been keeping. It just doesn’t seem like that could totally be the case. He’s not reading it.

“I don’t think it _hasn’t_ helped,” She begins, choosing her words carefully. As if her saying it doesn’t help would be the most offensive thing Dr. Taylor has ever heard. “Connor… he’s not the easiest person to connect to. He’s kind of closed off a little bit, even now. The main thing that’s different is that the meds are helping him stay calm, not freak out as much. So in that sense it’s been nice to be able to feel confident that things may not turn awful. And it’s helped me sort through the bad thoughts about him and get them out on paper so that I can begin moving forward. But I think when I do talk to Connor, I don’t think it’s because of the journal that things are getting better. He doesn’t even know about it.”

"Do you think the journal is something you can or will keep up with? Or do you think there’s maybe other ways you can go about expressing your feelings,” He asks, tapping is pen against his leg. Zoe almost wants to ask him to stop.

But instead she takes a deep breath and sighs. “Talking to you helps, but I think maybe I could like, keep doing the journal and then still find ways to talk to Connor help him get better. Especially with school starting soon, I just feel like maybe if we’re on better terms the transition will go really well,” She says quietly, watching Dr. Taylor as he nods.

They talk more about Connor for a while before her time is up, and Zoe decides to make another appointment, smiling at Dr. Taylor as he brings back another patient. She knows he’s probably going to keep praising her for coming back as if it’s like some big chore, but in all honesty, it really isn’t all that bad.

She kind of feels like Alana’s optimism is rubbing off on her.

—

There's a small diner on the other side of town that Zoe frequents after jazz band shows with her friends, only today it’s with Jared and Alana after therapy and she doesn’t feel that little post show high she usually got despite it only being a school jazz band.

“Can you believe school starts in a few weeks?” Alana asks, watching Zoe as she pokes at her salad. “I’ve been finishing up the last of my work and making sure I have all my papers ready to go to prove I did my internships this summer. What about you guys? Are you ready?”

“I mean, I don’t think we're as ready as you are,” Jared smirks, stabbing a french fry with a fork. “But I finished my Summer reading and I’m almost done my math packet. So I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just get the answers from Evan for the math.”

Alana frowns at that, looking down at her plate like she’s trying to think of a way to lecture Jared about how he should do the work himself. But instead she turns to Zoe, smiling as she takes another bite of soup. “What about you, Zoe? Are you ready?”

If there’s one person Zoe doesn’t want to admit that she’s barely done anything to, it’s Alana. Alana did an internship and an insane amount of volunteering this Summer, and all Zoe has done is go to therapy a few times, tried to repair her relationship with her brother, and lived through his suicide attempt and the whole situation surrounding that.

“I read one of the books that was required,” She sighs, attempting to stab a crouton with her fork. “And I did a little bit of the math packet, but…” She trails off, forcing herself to look up. “I— my mind has been in other places,” She admits, biting her lip.

Alana’s eyes widen, almost like she forgot the night that she spent at the Murphy’s while Connor was rushed to the hospital after his attempt, where Zoe cried on her bed thinking about how she had just found her brother half dead and choking on his own vomit while she frantically called for help.

“Of course,” She nods, as if she completely understands what Zoe means by that. “I’m sure you’ll finish it all, and if not the teachers don’t always go over the Summer work on the first day,” She encourages. Zoe nods, popping the crouton in her mouth and chewing until she can’t hear her own thoughts. Alana sighs, taking another bite of soup before looking towards Zoe. “What about Connor? Is he coming back on the first day?”

Zoe sighs, chewing louder until she feels like she’s not sitting at this table in the middle of a crowded diner, wondering if she stalls long enough Alana will forget she asked.

When she swallows the crouton Alana and Jared are staring at her, waiting for her answer.

“I don’t know,” She finally says quietly, stabbing another crouton with her fork. “I — he and I don’t talk much. We like… we’re getting better, obviously. But I haven’t asked him about school and it’s not like he just willingly talks about his recovery or milestones or whatever. I would think he’s going to start first day, but…”

She trails off, and luckily Alana seems to notice that she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore as she nods. “Well, hopefully he’s feeling better to come back on the first day. It’s his senior year, that’s a big thing.”

Zoe laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t think he cares about senior year. I… clearly he wasn’t planning on being here for it.”

It’s the first time Zoe has even made the slightest of mentions about Connor’s attempt. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth, and she hates that she almost feels angry about it.

Alana frowns, opening her mouth to say something before closing it again. Jared jumps in, shifting the conversation to something about his camp that he had gone to that summer, which Zoe silently thanks him for by nudging him under the table, smiling when he looks at her.

Zoe pays her part of the bill and declines the offer to hang out with them after, walking back to her car alone in hopes that home is somehow more enjoyable than that lunch.

—

Zoe could probably make a list of things that would shock her about her family through this whole recovery thing.

Coming home after lunch to find that Connor was out with Larry was definitely at the top of that list.

It just — Zoe didn’t think they were anywhere near the point where Larry and Connor would casually go out together — even after her telling him it’d be a good thing — but she also can’t see her parents letting Connor go anywhere alone. And with Evan at work all day Connor wouldn’t be at his house right now…

“Connor and your dad went for a walk in the park,” Cynthia says, almost as if she can read Zoe’s mind as she dumbly stands in the entryway of the kitchen, watching her mom clean up. “Your dad told me what you said to him. About asking Connor to do something with him?” Cynthia looks over her shoulder, smiling back at Zoe. “I’m glad you said something, sweetheart. I think hearing it from you made it sink in a little more.”

Zoe shrugs, setting her phone down on the counter as she goes to get herself something to drink. “I just thought maybe we needed to make more of the effort. I get things are awkward between the two of them, but eventually they’re going to have to get better,” She sighs, sinking into a seat at the counter. “Was Connor mad about it?”

Cynthia shuts off the sink, drying her hands. “I don’t think he was mad, no,” She says, but it doesn’t sound all that convincing and Zoe really isn’t all that surprised. “He’s just — I don’t think he expected Dad to say that they should do something. Going to the park is pretty low-key though, even for Connor.”

Zoe thinks about saying how she hears him still getting sick sometimes in the middle of the night. But Cynthia will worry and probably hover and Connor will just be mad at her that she told anyone.

So she shuts her mouth and nods, not wanting to start anything when apparently things were going well.

“Is Connor going to start school on the first day?” Zoe asks, immediately regretting her decision the moment it leaves her lips. It’s abrupt and obviously catches Cynthia off guard, because she just looks back at Zoe and doesn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“That’s the plan, yes,” She finally says, but even Zoe hears the weariness in her voice. Like she’s not totally convinced that’ll happen. “Plans can change, obviously, but the goal is for him to be there on the first day,” She pauses. “I’d be really grateful if you could — he may need some help the first few days and weeks. And I just think it’d be good if you’d look after him a little. I know you’re younger, you have your own life. You shouldn’t have to. But I just… I worry.”

“It’s fine,” Zoe says, partially cutting off the rambling her mother seemed to be doing. “I can make sure he’s fine during school, it really isn’t that big of a deal.”

Cynthia smiles, and Zoe watches her shoulders relax when she stands across from her. “Thank you so much, Zo. Honestly. Things are going to get better, I can feel it.”

The optimism Zoe’s had surrounding her has been sickening to say the least, but if the rest of her world is falling apart around her, she figures maybe the optimism will end up being okay.

—

The last time Connor had asked Zoe to do something with her Connor was probably 8 and Zoe most likely went along with whatever game Connor had made up in his head.

Now he stands in her doorway staring at his feet, and Zoe feels wildly uncomfortable. Like he’s a stranger in her doorway and he’s just waiting for the perfect moment to kill her.

That’s a bit extreme, even for Connor.

“Can we get ice cream after dinner?” He asks, refusing to look at her as he asks. Zoe almost doesn’t know how to answer, because while she heard the question she has a hard time believing that Connor actually wants to do something with her.

“If you want, yeah,” Zoe says quietly, smiling when Connor finally looks at her.

And so she finds herself driving she and Connor across town after dinner, the radio cutting through the otherwise silent car ride they had been on.

“Thought you were just going to Dairy Queen,” Connor mumbles when he realizes that she’s going to A La Mode.

Zoe smiles, glancing over at him. “I thought maybe A La Mode would be better? I can just go to Dairy Queen if you want,” She offers, mostly because this was Connor’s idea and she doesn’t want to sabotage the whole trip he had evidently planned out in his mind.

But he just shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair and half smiling. “A La Mode is definitely better. I just didn’t think you’d want to drive there. We can go,” He says.

So far, this trip isn’t nearly as horrible as Zoe thought it was going to be.

They order their ice cream together and decide to eat in the car, mostly because the ice cream shop is getting more crowded and Zoe can tell that Connor is like, wildly worried about seeing someone from school. Even though they _definitely_ wouldn’t be able to tell that he had tried to kill himself earlier that Summer.

She understands his worry.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Zoe begins after they sit in silence for a few minutes. Which is almost a sure way to have Connor take what she’s going to say the wrong way. “But is there a reason you wanted to get ice cream tonight? I’m glad you did, but like… I don’t know.”

Connor takes another bite of ice cream, which is obviously a technique to delay having to answer the question. Zoe’s too impressed to be annoyed at him.

“I just thought maybe we could like, hang out,” He says quietly, sinking further into the passenger seat. “That sounds even dumber out loud than in my head.”  
Zoe has to at least smile at that. “It’s not dumb,” She quickly says, but it sounds cheesy and Connor rolls his eyes. “We can’t keep avoiding each other and expect that we’re just going to magically get better.”

“I know,” Connor says, stabbing his spoon into the ice cream a little too forcefully. “Did you hear that I went out with Dad today?” He asks, abruptly changing the subject. Zoe kind of figured the conversation was over, but smiles when she hears him break the silence.

“I came home and saw you were gone. What did you guys do?”

“We just went to the park,” Connor shrugs, sinking further into his seat. Zoe notices some kids from school walking into A La Mode. “He asked me what I wanted to do, but I’m not really up for anything? Also the whole hanging out with Dad…”

Zoe nods, twirling her spoon in her ice cream before taking another bite. “Was it fine? Like obviously you guys haven’t been great, but is it — were things okay?”

Connor sighs, nodding slowly and resting his feet against the dashboard. “It really wasn’t all that bad. It’s just — I didn’t expect him to want to do anything? Or to want to help.”

“He wants you to get better.”

Connor shrugs. “I mean, I figured. But he didn’t seem like he wanted me to when I was younger. Is it because I almost died this time that he actually cares?”

Zoe can hear Connor getting more upset, and if she was being rational, she’d probably stop the conversation. But he doesn’t seem angry and she figures changing the subject probably isn’t the best idea, so she just sits there, trying to think of something to say that doesn’t seem like she’s taking her dad’s side.

“I think he always cared. I don’t think he knew what to do to help,” She finally comes up with, but it falls flat and definitely sounds like she’s taking Larry’s side, which she didn’t want to do. “I know him pulling you out of therapy and groups and all that was shitty, but I think he was lost.”

“I just wanted a chance,” Connor mumbles, but his voice is shaking and Zoe can tell he’s trying not to cry, and this isn’t exactly how she thought the night was going to go. “I guess I’m glad he’s giving me one now. But I hate that he only cared when I tried to off myself and it made him look like an awful parent.”

Zoe starts to think about going off on a rant about that one, but she can tell it would just lead to him lashing out and they’re pretty far away from home, and she’s not looking to die in the open fields surrounding A La Mode. So she just nods, finishing the rest of her ice cream and letting the silence fill the car in hopes that Connor understands that she doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Are you doing all of this because you feel like you have to?” Connor abruptly asks, crushing his ice cream cup in his hands. “Like, are you being nice to me because I tried to off myself and now you don’t want to be seen as a sister who doesn’t care?”

Zoe _knows_ that sitting there not saying anything isn’t the most convincing thing she could’ve done, but in all the things she thought Connor would bring up, this isn’t one of those things. “Connor, I think we both know that if I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t. I think I’ve made that pretty clear over the last few years.”

Connor shrugs. “I guess. But if you don’t want to help you don’t have to.”

“You do realize I want to help you, right?” She says, but it sounds stupid because this whole conversation has been a giant flag telling her that no, he doesn’t believe she really wants to help him. “You’ve had a really fucked up few years. And you were awful to me, and maybe it’ll take me a while to forgive you for all that. But I want you to be happy, and if that means me helping you and being there for you through this whole recovery, then I’m going to do it.”

Connor rests his hand against Zoe’s in the middle of the car, and while it’s a totally normal thing and Zoe shouldn’t be freaked out by it, she can’t help but flinch. Connor doesn’t look like he notices, but she still stares at him, wide-eyed and worried that this is still all going to go horribly wrong.

“Thank you,” He mumbles instead, squeezing her hand before quickly pulling away. He sounds almost relieved, like maybe all he needed was the constant reassurance from his sister that she wasn’t going to flake on him.

It made sense. Zoe figures he’s probably had a lot of people flake on him the last few years.

“We’re going to figure this out,” She says, shoving her empty ice cream cup into the cupholder and turning the car on to drive home before she says anything else ridiculous.

The car ride home is silent, but it’s comfortable and Zoe doesn’t have that constant nagging in her mind that something is going to go wrong or Connor is going to freak out again.

It’s nice.

—

Zoe has been a master at acting like the whole journal thing just didn’t exist the last three days. She figures it’s probably not the best strategy, but lately the sheer thought of writing things down is exhausting and not anything she’s felt like doing.

But after a night spent with Connor and the house not feeling like it’s a ticking time bomb for the first time in years, she figures it’s probably the best night to at least attempt to write something coherent for therapy.

_“Things have changed like…”_

_This one seemed the most appropriate considering that you and I just spent a few hours with you getting ice cream and driving the long way around town just spending time together. And we couldn’t have done this a few weeks ago, let alone at all the last few years._

_Since your attempt, I’m not as scared to be around you. You’re not as all over the place, your mood is mostly good, and I feel like if we work really hard you and I are going to be fine. Or at least be able to figure this out and not feel like we have to walk on eggshells._

_Things in our family have changed, too. Dad has been so much better than he ever was. You guys are civil, there isn’t as much tension between any of us, and things finally feel like they’re going to be okay. I didn’t think we’d ever get tot his point. I didn’t think I’d ever get back to the point where I wasn’t absolutely terrified of you at every waking moment._

_I know ice cream isn’t going to fix everything. Sitting in the car and taking the long way home with you isn’t going to magically make us best friends. But enough has changed that we’re able to do that and I don’t feel like you’re going to freak out at me or do something that would make me crash the car._

_We all have a lot of things left to change, a lot of things we need to work on, but this is a really big start. And I know that maybe it’s going to take time, but even just these little changes feel like it’s a step in the right direction for all of us._

_I’m really proud of you for how much you’re willing to change. How much you’re willing to give us all a chance after how horrible things have been the last few years._

_I should probably tell you that more._

_Zo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title of the chapter is from Villains by Johnnyswim :)
> 
> thank you guys for reading!
> 
> you can come talk to me on tumblr if you want! for-f0rever.tumblr.com
> 
> more next week :)


End file.
